


Two years (Pt one)

by Tindomerelhloni



Series: Two Years [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:20:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2019648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tindomerelhloni/pseuds/Tindomerelhloni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then there was the sickening smack, as Sherlock hit the pavement below. John had seen countless friends die in Afghanistan. But this, this was like a shot to his own heart. The immediate pain was worse than that of getting shot. It was worse than anything John could have ever imagined. </p><p>“I’m a doctor. Let me come through. Let me come through please. No, he’s my friend. He’s my friend. Please.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two years (Pt one)

**Author's Note:**

> The feels.... I'm sorry...

“Goodbye, John.”  
“No. SHERLOCK!”

The words rang in John’s ears. His shout “Sherlock” bounced around his head. Bouncing off the corners of his memory, trying to escape, trying to be forgotten. 

Then there was the sickening smack, as Sherlock hit the pavement below. John had seen countless friends die in Afghanistan. But this, this was like a shot to his own heart. The immediate pain was worse than that of getting shot. It was worse than anything John could have ever imagined. 

“I’m a doctor. Let me come through. Let me come through please. No, he’s my friend. He’s my friend. Please.” 

Finally reaching the body, John takes Sherlock’s wrist, desperately searching for a pulse. Before he even gets the chance, a nurse is pulling him away. He tries in vain to reach out, to touch Sherlock one more time. 

The blood… Oh, the blood.

“Please, just let me…”

Medic’s roll Sherlock’s body onto a stretcher. Sherlock’s neck rolling to the side, his eyes wide open.

“Nnnngggh, Jesus, no.” John slumps to his knees, clinging to someone. He tries to stand, tries to reach Sherlock one more time. But grief has overcome him.

“God, no.”

~Two years later.~

The past two years have been hell for John. He tried not to let sorrow take over. He tried to move on. Even dated for a short time. But every time he looked at Mary, he just saw Sherlock. He had been one of the few people who believed Sherlock wasn’t a fraud. Moriarty had done his work well. Mike and a few other blokes had stood with John. But that wasn’t enough. 

John had survived these past two years through drink and drugs. He hadn’t been sober in 6 months now. 

“Doctor J. H. Watson Blog  
Last entry. 9:00 AM

As most of you know, I’m a drunk, I’m a junkie, and God knows I am a miserable, bitter man. I have lived the past two years with the hope that Sherlock would prove us wrong. With the hope that he wasn’t dead. 

But that’s just it. He IS dead. I can still hear the smack his body made as he hit the pavement. Every night when I go to sleep, I see his lifeless eyes staring at me. My best friend, my lover, and the best man this world has ever known is dead. 

Moriarty turned you all against him, and yes Lestrade has now proven that in fact, Sherlock was not a fraud. But that doesn’t make it any better! In fact it makes it worse. Had you all just fucking believed him when he was alive, he wouldn’t have had to jump! 

I hate who I have become. I’ve let everyone down. This is it… It is time to go meet my love. 

-JW

 

Comments:

Mike: Hey buddy, why not come by. We can talk. Text me.

Mrs. Hudson: John? Why don’t you stop by Baker street. Sherlock wouldn’t want this.

Harry: John, drink isn’t the answer!”

 

John shuts his laptop off, gets a taxi and goes to Barts. He will end himself the way his lover did. He had waited until lunch time, that way Molly wouldn’t be around. He snuck up to the roof and as if through a haze walked to the spot Sherlock had stood two years ago. 

He thought he would be frightened, that he would have second thoughts. But he hadn’t thought clearer in the past two years. The world slowed down around him. All of the city noise faded away, all that he could hear was the beating of his own heart and his shallow breaths. Is this how Sherlock felt? Did Sherlock cry? 

“God help me, Sherlock…. I don’t know where you are, mate… But I’m coming, be it heaven or hell. I swear I will find you. There is no power that can stop me.” John whispered.

“I’m right here, and I believe in John Watson.” It was Sherlock’s voice. John had heard that voice so often over the past two years. 

“There is nothing left to believe in, Sherlock. Without you, I am nothing.” John blinked away tears. 

“You are everything. You are the best man that I know.” There was so much compassion in Sherlock’s voice that John almost believed he was there.

“Sherlock, that may have been true, but now… Look at me.” The tears were falling freely. No one could see. He didn’t care. “I love you so much, it hurts to breath. I can’t even drive near Baker street.”

A hand touchs John’s left shoulder and nearly startles him off the roof. The hand expected that, and it steadies him. It must be Mike, he had left a comment on his blog. 

“Mike, just leave me… Let me do this. I need to do this!” He goes to push the hand away. 

The hand grab’s John’s, pulls him off the edge of the roof and spins him around.

“I’m not Mike, and I will not let you kill yourself. You are a good man, Doctor Watson. It’s time you remembered that.”

John just stares, speechless, moving, unblinking. 

“You. Are. Dead. You can’t be here. You…. cannot be here! You’re in my head.”

“I’m quite real, John.”

Sherlock grabs John and pull him into an embrace. John just stands there unmoving for some time.

“Sherlock!” He sobs, grabbing onto him with all of his strength. Sherlock places a hand on John’s head, and together they weep, uncaring if anyone sees them.

John falls to his knees from the sheer volume of emotions. Sherlock kneels down in front of him and takes John’s face in both his hands, wiping his tears away.

“Sherlock…. how… why? No! I don’t care. Sherlock… help me…” He hands his head in shame, remembering who he had become in Sherlock’s absence. 

“We’ll do this together, John. I will be there for you, for every step. I promise, I wont leave your side.” Sherlock does what he’s wanted to do since he watched John step onto the roof. He pulls John’s face in and kisses him. He kisses every inch of John’s face as if that will solve all of their problems. 

“Sherlock…. Let’s go home.”

“As you wish, John.” Sherlock smiles, gets up, and offers a hand to John. “Let’s go, luv. There’s something I’ve missed these last two years..”

“Yeah? What’s that?” John smiles for the first time.

“You.” Sherlock kisses John one more time, before leading him off the roof and back home to Baker Street.

**Author's Note:**

> But I hope the end makes you smile.


End file.
